


Somewhere In Time

by AnnieforSimonsflower



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Crossover, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War, The Quidditch Pitch: Television, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-28
Updated: 2009-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-27 20:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10815786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieforSimonsflower/pseuds/AnnieforSimonsflower
Summary: Harry reflects after leaving the nightclub.[Crossover with Doctor Who and Torchwood].  Sequel to “Out of Time.“





	Somewhere In Time

**Author's Note:**

> This story is archived on behalf of Simons_flower, who passed away in 2009, by her designated archivist.
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This follows immediately after the events of “Out of Time.”  Since the bunnies have bit hard with this idea, I have at least two other stories on the burner in this universe, including how the Doctor found Harry.

  
** Somewhere In Time **

I never counted on being immortal. Once I entered the Wizarding world and found out about the longer lifespan most wizards have, I expected to live to be over one hundred provided I didn't die before I was twenty at Voldemort's hand.

I never counted on outliving everyone I knew and then some.

I also never thought I'd be traveling the universe with an alien and . . . well, I know Jack's human, but there are also so many other descriptions for him. The time-traveling part of our travels were easy to accept after the adventures with Time Turners in the Wizarding world -- and the Doctor wasn't pleased at all to hear _those_ existed. After accepting that magic existed, accepting that there were entire galaxies and races spread out across the universe full of sentient beings was a fairly easy concept. Hermione would have loved it.

Harder to accept was the time-traveling alien with two hearts whose time machine was a blue police box straight out of 1960's London. Our first meeting did not go well, especially since I was trying to kill myself at the time.

I'm staring at nothing when Jack kicks at my legs as he takes a seat at the kitchen table. "You're brooding again." I sigh and glare at him. He grins, his blue eyes glittering mischievously.

Jack reminds me of Ron in many ways: irrepressible, loyal, funny, the kind of man you want at your back, solid in more ways than just the physical. However, they would not get along at all. Ron would be too worried about Jack hitting on Hermione to try to make friends, for starters. After all, the smile would remind him of Gilderoy Lockhart. The utterly random thought -- Lockhart hasn't crossed my mind in one hundred years -- makes me laugh.

Jack blinks and arches an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. Nudging me with his foot again, he asks, "You sure you're OK?"

"I hate Halloween," I mutter. And, just to confuse him further, I add, "You have a beautiful smile."

He starts to smile in reflex, then frowns, tilting his head to one side. "Have you been drinking that funny whisky?"

I duck my head, grinning into my glass of . . . actually, I'm not sure what I'm drinking. I asked the TARDIS for alcohol and she provided me with _something_ that has a kick to it even though I have no idea what it is. "No, I'm not drinking Firewhisky. We haven't had any on board for ten years." Jack still hasn't forgiven me for the last time I spiked his Sarloxian brandy with it. How was I supposed to know it was rare and that he'd traded certain favors to get the bottle he had?

"Brooding," he repeats at last. "You're doing it again."

Sighing heavily, I toss back the last of my drink, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Jack and the Doctor both know the whole of my miserable history, so I don't have to repeat it for them. It's only on days like today that I'm grateful for the pain I endured in the retelling -- and revisiting -- of events because it means they understand _why_ I brood on Halloween. I try to limit it to Halloween, to confine my misery and lonely thoughts to just one day, but they sometimes leak through. As the years pass and the Doctor and Jack are able to help me work through my _issues_ , I have fewer and fewer of those bleed-through days and even some that are genuinely happy.

"I hate Halloween," I repeat, just in case he missed the reason for brooding in the first place.

When Jack rolls his eyes, the motion is so exaggerated, I can almost hear it. "It's a wonder they didn't kill you years before, Harry, if all you did was mope."

"Oi! I was a hero!" _Great, now he has me bragging about something I wasn't even proud of. Buggering git._

"Heroes are overrated," the Doctor mutters as he enters the kitchen.

"They also tend to die early as martyrs," Jack adds.

I scoff. There's no need for them to gang up on me. "Unless they're immortal or die in shame." The memory of Severus Snape passes through my mind. _There's_ a man who should have died with some recognition, but instead died in ignominy.

The Doctor tugs a banana from a bunch on the counter, then takes a seat at the table to my right and opposite Jack. "Are you lamenting the fact you're regarded as a hero?"

Sighing, I cross my arms on the table and drop my head onto them. "I'd rather be a martyr."

There is demonic glee in Jack's voice when he says, "We can arrange that. Bit of traveling back, let Voldemort kill you with that green bolt, and _ta da_!"

I lift my head just enough to give him a withering look. "Did that twice already. Didn't take." My tone of voice is dry enough to crackle.

"No one is killing anyone unless _I_ kill the two of _you_ ," the Doctor says mildly.

Jack wags a finger admonishingly at the Doctor. "You're not as much fun anymore." The Doctor cocks one eyebrow upward in question. "I _know_ we can't mess with our own timelines, but we haven't been anywhere exciting lately." Jack sounds almost like a toddler complaining about not having been given a new toy in the last ten minutes.

"The Nex Cluster wasn't exciting?" I ask, straightening and sipping my new drink, which I thoughtfully note is just water. There is a sensation like bubbles through my brain for a moment, which I've come to recognize as appreciation or acknowledgment from the TARDIS.

As for the Nex Cluster, Jack was nearly arrested there for having blue eyes, which they consider a sign of their version of the devil. I duck my head for a moment and grin into my glass. If only they knew how close they were to the truth when it came to Jack -- little bit angel and a whole lot of devil.

"That doesn't count," Jack mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. He almost pouts, but knows we would call him on it. Instead, he frowns.

The Doctor leans forward slightly, his elbows on the table. He slowly peels the banana in his hand, drawing Jack's attention and mine to him, damn him.

"What about last week when we went to Rome?" the Doctor asks. Knowing our attention is riveted on him, he slides the pointed tip of the banana into his mouth, past those pale pink lips, holding it there for just long enough that Jack and I both shift uncomfortably in our chairs, then pulls it out again. He gestures at each of us with the banana. "You were both mistaken for slaves and I nearly accidentally sold you, if you recall."

I swallow loudly. My brooding melancholy has been suddenly drowned under an onslaught of teasing and innuendo, apparently, by how painfully hard my cock is against the fly of my trousers.

Jack, holding the Doctor's gaze, reaches across the table to grab the Doctor's hand. Twisting it slightly, he pulls the banana toward him, taking the entire fruit in his mouth in one fluid motion.

I clear my throat. Jack knows exactly what he's doing to both of us, and I'm quite proud of myself when I can say in an even voice, "I'm done brooding for now."

The Doctor slants me a sideways glance, his pale brown eyes so like Hermione's shining with amusement and arousal. "Have something else in mind?"

"Oh, yes," I reply. Taking in both of them with my gaze, I dip my finger into my water, then slide it into my mouth.

The Doctor blinks, grinning wickedly. "Very well. I shall consider you out of your Halloween funk, then."

Jack finishes the banana, swallowing loudly and licking his lips with an exaggerated tongue motion.

Even as he pulls me out of my chair for a kiss, I ask, "The banana was a bit over the top, wasn't it?"

I only briefly see his grin and hear, "Worked, didn't it?" before his mouth devours mine.

It's a good thing I like bananas.


End file.
